Batman: Loose Ends
by Batguy
Summary: The mob attack Batman... soon followed by the arrival of the mysterious Talia al Ghul, in the first tale of my series following events after Batman begins and the novel Dead White. DISCLAIMER DC Comics own all main characters. Batman created by Bob Kane.
1. Chapter 1

_**Batman: Loose Ends**_

**CHAPTER ONE: The Dark Knight**

_Jackie Moxon was running. He should never have taken this job. He should never have let Sly talk him into working for Maroni. The dark, shadowy figure was descending on him from behind. Moxon opened his mouth to scream and a cord spun out from above, wrapping itself around his waist. Moxon swung upwards and slammed onto a shipping crate. Sweat poured down his face… where was he? Where was that THING that had come from the night? Where was the Batman? His head was forced upwards… someone was pulling his hair up with a vice- like grip. Jackie Moxon stared into the cold eyes of the Batman… he opened his mouth and screamed, hollering for help. _

Thugs stared from Salvatore Maroni's transport ship at the docks.

"What the fuck was that?" Exclaimed one. Their leader, a tall, muscular man in a long leather jacket stared across the bay. He spoke coldly in a Russian accept, smoothing down his short, light brown hair:

"Hurry up. He is here."

"Who?" Asked a curious henchman.

"The Bat. He is coming for us."

Suddenly, a bat- shaped shuriken sliced through the air, a cord whirring after it, tied to its rear blade. The weapon slammed into a door inches from the Russian.

"Impressive," Hissed the leader, "Impressive…"

A dark figure, cape swirling behind it, swung across the docks, over the cold waters of Gotham, and landed on the deck. The criminals stared at him.  
"What are you waiting for!?" Bellowed the Russian, "Bring me his head!"

Thugs ran at The Batman. Six… seven… no, nine of them. The Dark Knight merely stood on the deck, cape draped around his body, frozen, until the last moment. As one of the goons swung a crowbar at the vigilante, Batman somersaulted backwards and kicked the bar from his hands, punching his opponent across the deck. Two more came at his behind and Batman turned with ease, tapping two fingers to either's neck. The villains slumped to the ground and the other six thugs surrounded the Caped Crusader.

"Give up," He hissed, his voice almost bestial in delivery, "Run."

"Get him," Smirked the Russian.

The goons charged and Batman was gone. He dropped from the sky, kicking one of them off the ship, sweeping two thugs up into the recesses of his cape. They slammed to the deck, somehow defeated with ease.

The last three men attempted to run and he hurled three shuriken with perfect precision, slicing all three across both legs. The men fell to the ground, bleeding and gasping. The vigilante only glanced at them as the Russian man glared at him.

"The Batman," Hissed the Russian.

Batman said nothing. He just leapt, his cape flowing out behind him and glided at the thug, kicking his enemy into the door to the hold. The Russian actually _laughed_ as he slammed into the door with force and he stepped towards Batman, purposefully.

"Idiot American! You are no match for me!" Roared the criminal.

"Perhaps not…" Came the growled reply, "But I have many tools at my disposal."

Batman reached into the excesses of his cape. Something dropped to the ground in front of the Russian.

"Oh."

The device detonated. Smoke swarmed around the Russian, blinding him. A gauntleted fist hurtled through the smoke, knocking the Russian to his knees. Batman kicked his opponent across the face and slammed him into the deck, again and again.

When the Russian awoke, The Batman was nowhere to be seen. He and his men were tied together, hanging from a shipping crane. A police helicopter lowered towards them. Suddenly, an explosion shook the docks. Maroni's ship was burning…

Salvatore "Boss" Maroni sat in his office, glaring at his assistant, Sionis. Maroni was very, very angry.

"What did you say!?" He bellowed, breaking his cigar in two against the desk.

"Knyazev failed," Repeated Sionis, sweat running down the back of his neck. He had never seen Maroni so angry… and when Maroni was angry, he killed people. Any people. His own people, "The Batman took them all down."

"THE BATMAN? I want that son of a bitch DEAD! You hear me?" Ranted Maroni, "DEAD!"

"Sir, it's not that simple… our normal guys can't take him down."

"We need some new blood, eh? In fact, I have a plan…" Smiled Maroni, "The Batman and that prick Harvey Dent have been poking around my business too much as of late. A normal idiot will testify, but… tell me, Roman… what is the current status of Cornelius Stirk?"

"The serial killer? Are you nuts!? He's some kind of cannibal!" Exclaimed Sionis in horror.

"Yes, Roman, I am aware. Find him. Tell him we must talk… how will they be able to use a psychotic like Stirk to testify against me?"

"I guess, boss… but if this backfires, that maniac could kill us all!"

"Perhaps. But I don't really care. Even Stirk may need back-up… call in some favours at Arkham. I want Victor Zsasz and Jervis Tetch on the streets by this time tomorrow," Smirked Maroni. He rose and walked to the window, "Batman's gonna die soon… I can feel it in my bones."

Bruce Wayne walked into the Wayne Manor ballroom. People danced around him, but Bruce ignored them, calmly snatching the last glass of champagne from his butler Alfred's tray, under the nose of a guest.

Wayne sipped from the glass thoughtfully and glanced across at a beautiful woman, who seemed somehow familiar, dancing discontentedly with a short, red- headed man. Bruce sidled over to the couple, holding his glass lazily in his right hand. He leant on the drinks bar, draining one glass of champagne and indulgently refilling the glass.

"Excuse me, miss…?" He drawled lazily.

"Ah, Mr. Wayne," The young woman slipped from her dancing partner's grasp and joined Bruce at the bar, accepting the champagne he offered her. She spoke with a slight Oriental accent, "You may call me Talia."

"Just… Talia?"

"Just Talia," The young woman smiled at him, wiping a strand of smooth black hair from her eye.

"I don't believe seeing a 'Talia' on the guest list," Replied Wayne, "I assume that was not from a lack of care on my part?"

"Perhaps not, Mr. Wayne, but perhaps so," Talia smiled coldly.

"Would you care to…?" Began Wayne, but the short man angrily interrupted him:

"Excuse me, Mr. Wayne, but I believe I was dancing with the lady!"

Bruce smiled cockily down at the man.

"And I believe I was talking to the lady, Mr. Stein."

Talia took Bruce by the hand.

"Shall we?"

"Of course."

They danced away from the disgruntled Mr. Stein. Bruce smiled as they moved, twirling Talia to the delicate playing of the piano. He ignored everything around him, focusing merely on her: her perfect body… her beautiful eyes… her sweet scent. They swept across the dance floor but, far too soon for Bruce, the music stopped. He smiled at Talia, releasing her.

"Thank you," He said quietly and looked around him in shock… Talia was, inexplicably, gone!


	2. Chapter 2

**_Batman: Loose Ends_**

**CHAPTER TWO: Courthouse Chaos**

Bruce walked down the passage of Wayne Manor, until he stopped by an old grandfather clock. He turned to it and ran his hand down the side. A mechanical voice responded to the action:

"Figure-print scan: positive identification: Bruce Wayne."

The clock slid sideways and revealed a stone stairway leading into darkness. Bruce stepped inside, the clock sliding shut after him. He looked across the expanses of the Bat Cave. Bats flittered across the huge cavern. The billionaire sighed, jugging down the staircase, passing a bulky shape under a tarpaulin. He stopped by a glass display cabinet and stared in at his black body armoured costume: the costume of The Batman.

Moments later, the fully costumed Batman strode across the cave, strapping shuriken, a grappling cable and various other devices onto his utility harness. He reached the hidden shape and cast off the tarpaulin. The Tumbler, his trusty so- called "Batmobile", a high speeds tank from Wayne Enterprise's R&D Division, was parked before him. The Dark Knight seemed to smile as he ran his hand along the car's side and the armoured doors slid open. He slipped into the cockpit, the door sliding shut automatically, and looked down the runway towards seemingly solid rock.

"Alfred. Open Standard Door A1," He grunted into the Tumbler's communications system.

"Certainly, sir," Came Alfred's voice through the speakers. The supposedly solid rock at the end of the runway slid aside to reveal a waterfall. Bruce stepped on the Tumble's accelerator. At speeds nearing one hundred and fifty, the Batmobile rocketed ahead and off the runway, splashing through the waterfall onto a country track. He raced down various lanes and over a massive hill, dropping onto the Gotham Express Way, leading directly to and from the city. The Tumbler raced down the bustling road, swerving to avoid cars.

"Alfred, patch me through to police frequency," Commanded the Dark Knight, steering his vehicle narrowly between a lorry and some kind of old Ford.

"Yes, Master Wayne," Responded the butler in his cockney accent, "Police scanner coming right on, sir."

There was an unhealthy crackling from the speakers and police news came through.

"Requesting back-up at the Courthouse! Some psychos just showed up tryin' to kill Anatoli Knyazev! I repeat, we need back…"

The request was cut short by sounds of gunfire. Batman bit his lip and drove faster, one thought on his mind: Rachel was at the courthouse… if he didn't get there in time, he'd have to suffer through the death of another loved one. That wasn't an option!

The courthouse was in chaos. The main chamber was burning, strewn with bullets. Policemen, jurors and onlookers lay dead everywhere, alongside various gangsters. Victor Zsasz and two masked men with _automatic shotguns _stood in the chamber. As Batman perched on the roof, looking through a skylight, he recognised the weapons with dread. They were the lethal tools the psychotic racist cult leader, Aaron Bunch, alias White Eyes, had equipped his men with. The Dark Knight looked closely at the chaos, among the survivors, who were now huddled in a corner. Thank God. He allowed himself a brief smile: Rachel Dawes was alive, comforting two sobbing women… but there was no sign of Anatoli Knyazev, the Russian that he had beaten at the docks.

Batman took two shuriken from his utility harness, aiming carefully. He'd have to release two perfect shots. He took a deep breath and hurled the shuriken through the skylight! Glass hailed down on the hostage takers, the shuriken burying themselves in either gunman's kneecaps. They collapsed, howling in pain.

Victor Zsasz, in a vest to show off his scarred arms- knife wounds in a tally to record the scores of innocents he'd murdered- looked up at the glaring spectre above him, teeth gritted, fists clenched. The serial killer raised his knives purposefully.

"Zsasz," Growled The Batman.

"Batman," Came the reply, "I'll enjoy killing you."

The Dark Knight Detective dived through the frame where once the skylight was held. He dropped, headfirst, loosing a shuriken. Zsasz stepped aside coolly to avoid the projectile and Batman landed on the palms of his hands, cart-wheeling into a standing position.

"You're going back to Arkham for good this time, you maniac," Spat the vigilante, "No more killing!"

Zsasz ran at Batman, stabbing forwards. Batman ducked so the blade merely nicked his shoulder, then rammed his knee into Zsasz's groin, punching him across the face, the killer's nose breaking on impact!

Zsasz staggered back… and hurled the knife from his left hand. Batman somehow caught it by the hilt and rammed the blade into a wall, trapping it. Then Zsasz ran at him, laughing manically. The Caped Crusader somersaulted to avoid his attack and struck the back of Zsasz's head with his heel, cracking his jaw against the trapped knife's handle.

"Your mine, Victor!"

Batman caught Zsasz's right wrist, slamming his arm into a wall until the psychopath dropped his second knife, then punched him to the floor.

Zsasz lay on the ground, grunting, blood pouring down his face, choking. Batman stood for a moment over his semi-conscious opponent and turned to face the whimpering hostages.

"Everyone, please stay calm. There are more gunmen out at the front," He growled, "You'll have to stay here for a few minutes, but…"

Suddenly, they heard a barrage of forceful, rapid gunfire. Four men with automatic shotguns, lead by Jervis Tetch, a top hat- wearing sociopath with two of the high tech guns strapped to his shoulders, were striding down the corridor. Batman remembered his first fight with Tetch… it had been bad, but this… this was a worse situation.

"O.K, people. Stay calm. On my signal, run for the windows… try to climb out. I'll hold Tetch off as long as I can! Move… NOW!"

The Dark Knight sprinted into the corridor as the hostages hurried for the windows, guided bravely by Rachel. He darted at his opponents and dodged moments before the men released a stream of shells, smashing holes through walls.

Batman's foot slammed into the wall and he propelled himself up and down, kicking Tetch across the corridor. The two thugs fired at the speeding vigilante, blasting holes through the ceiling. Batman dodged and weaved, denying them a clear target, but soon he was tiring. He looked back and saw… at least fifteen hostages were still in the court room… he needed to buy more time!

The vigilante somersaulted and released a handful of smoke pellets, blinding the three gunmen in a swarm of smoke. Batman was like a wraith among his enemies, emerging only to knock them down! Soon, both henchmen lay defeated. As the smoke cleared, Batman was facing Jervis Tetch. Tetch aimed his gun precisely at the hero.

"Don't move," He said slowly.

"Give up, Tetch. Knyazev isn't in there," Batman growled.

"True," Grinned the maniac, "But he isn't the only man that Maroni's paying me to kill!"

Tetch fired rapidly into Batman's chest, tearing through the Kevlar enforced armour, blasting the Dark Knight into the courtroom. Rachel, now alone, stared at the wounded hero.

"Bruce…" She whispered. The Batman lay unconscious in a pool of his own blood. Tetch strode into the room, stirring Zsasz from his unconsciousness as hurried footsteps and shoots came from nearby.

"Vic! The cops're onto us! Come on!" Shouted Tetch. The two men glanced at Rachel, sobbing over Batman's corpse, and fled through an opposite window.

Rachel sobbed, as the fallen vigilante stirred weakly. He coughed up blood, staring through weak eyes at her.

"Rachel… get out of here…" He mumbled. A squad of police ran into the room, guns raised, led by Lieutenant James Gordon. They slowly lowered their firearms.

"Miss Dawes?" Gordon spoke quietly, "Is he alive?"

"Yes," She muttered, "Only just."

"Don't worry, miss. The action's over, and we'll make sure he gets proper medical attention," Said Gordon, "Paramedics are waiting out the front."

Moments later, two paramedics arrived and hurried Batman to an ambulance. The ambulance raced away, seemingly bound for Mercy General Hospital: it was minutes later, as the true Mercy General paramedics arrived, that Gordon realised the hospital was in the opposite direction to that which the ambulance had come and departed from…


	3. Chapter 3

**_Batman: Loose Ends_**

**CHAPTER THREE: Talia**

Batman awoke in a dark, dank cell, hanging from the ceiling by manacles. He glanced around weakly… he knew he was alive, for death couldn't be this painful… but how long he would be alive, he didn't know. Slowly, the cell door swung open. Talia stepped inside, wearing an unmasked ninja's costume, with a katana through her belt.

"Talia…" He croaked weakly, "Talia…?"

"Wayne," She spat, and only then did the Dark Knight realise he had been unmasked, "Did you not realise who I am? You noticed nothing familiar about me?"

"I… who are you…?"

"I? I am merely the daughter of _Ra's al Ghul, _you murdering bastard!" She snapped, "Are you so caught up in your women… your champagne… your heroics… that you don't even think of the MURDER you committed!"

"I'm… no… murderer," Bruce was angry now. He had not murdered Ra's al Ghul, that he would swear in front of anyone. Al Ghul had been insane. He had wanted to destroy Gotham. And now someone sought to bring him to justice for an action or, more precisely, a _lack _of action that saved thousands… millions… perhaps _billions _of lives. He wasn't going to stand for it…

"I didn't murder Ra's al Ghul!"

"You blew up the monorail, Wayne! You let him die on it! Is that not murder?"

"He would have killed millions of people," Bruce shut his eyes, straining to pull his hands free of the manacles.

"Liar!"

"I'm no liar."

Talia was angry too. _Good. _Bruce smiled through the pain.

"Mr. Wayne… the only reason you are alive is because I want you to suffer. You will die… painfully," Snarled Talia, "So I suggest you do not aggravate me… I am sure that the more you irritate me, the more you shall suffer before your death."

Bruce decided that Talia was no expert at hostage taking. If she was, she should have realised: men like him can take torture. If you take your time to agonise your enemy, well… you merely give them more time to formulate their escape plan… and pain supplies adrenaline. With enough adrenaline, a strong man like Wayne is virtually unstoppable. For the time being, the pain could _help _him…

Alfred was on the telephone to Commissioner Loeb. Rachel stood by the sitting butler, who was beginning to seem very agitated, a rare thing to be seen from the cucumber cool Englishman.

"That's all very well, Mr. Commissioner!" Snapped Alfred, "But I don't think you comprehend the situation… _The Batman _is missing, as is my employer. Two controversial men who some say are huge helps to the community are missing! Now, these men need to be found or I'm sure it could be you who takes the blame for such a _mess!_"

Rachel smiled confidently for a moment. If anyone could put the fear of God into Loeb, it would be Alfred Pennyworth.

"Good," Said Alfred after a brief pause, "I'll expect you to be in touch within 24 hours, sir."

Alfred hung up the phone. He sighed and rose.

"He'll do what he can," Muttered the butler, "But that may not be enough for Master Bruce."

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Well, Miss Dawes… though I couldn't exactly reveal it to that bloody idiot Loeb, I have my own hidden ways of finding Master Wayne… like a radar with tracers to both the Tumbler and the Batman's cowl… so, what do you say we locate Bruce?"

Rachel smiled nervously:

"I suppose we could, but…"

"Don't worry, Miss Dawes. Everything will be fine. If there is any danger, we can notify the police before moving in…"

"How are we going to get there?"

"Well, between you and me, Miss Rachel, though I may come across the perfect mechanically- deficient aristocrat, the fact of the matter is I got a good look at the controls of Master Bruce's… or should I say _Batman's _specialised jet. What do you say we give it a good go? It hasn't had a decent airing since the White Eye's incident."

The duo walked to a titanium hangar door and Alfred typed a code into the control panel next to it. The door slid open to reveal a black two- man jet, with crescent- shaped, bat- like wings. The cockpit slid open.

"After you, Miss Rachel."

The chains whirled around. Talia slammed the spiked steel links across Batman's back again. He merely grunted each time one of the chains struck him, tearing his body armour apart, leaving deep bloody wounds in his flesh.

"I didn't kill…" He began, but was cut short as Talia slammed a chain across his face, leaving a deep, bleeding injury. Bruce let himself slump, blood pouring down the remnants of his costume. Talia glared at him:

"Are you ready to admit it, yet? Ready to admit that you killed my father!?"

"Never!" Cried the Dark Knight and Talia struck him again. He gasped, flopping forwards, and blacked out.

When he awoke, he had been cut down, though now the bladed chains acted as agonizing bonds. He was knelt by a stone basin of steaming water… or so it looked.

"What you see before you is not steam, Wayne," Came Talia's hissed voice, "It is the result of drying and grinding the blue flower used to make Jonathan Crane's fear gas, then mixing it into heated water. I assure, the result is double torture."

Talia seized Bruce by the hair and plunged his head into the water. Bruce suffered visions… phantoms… sick beasts… bats… his father… he tried to scream but could not under the water level, releasing bubbles from his mouth. As Bruce lost consciousness once again, Talia pulled him free.

"He is breaking," She smiled sadistically, "Soon, we shall end his miserable existence… once, and for all."


	4. Chapter 4 Loose Ends, The Finale

**_Batman: Loose Ends_**

**CHAPTER ONE: The Dark Knight**

_Jackie Moxon was running. He should never have taken this job. He should never have let Sly talk him into working for Maroni. The dark, shadowy figure was descending on him from behind. Moxon opened his mouth to scream and a cord spun out from above, wrapping itself around his waist. Moxon swung upwards and slammed onto a shipping crate. Sweat poured down his face… where was he? Where was that THING that had come from the night? Where was the Batman? His head was forced upwards… someone was pulling his hair up with a vice- like grip. Jackie Moxon stared into the cold eyes of the Batman… he opened his mouth and screamed, hollering for help. _

Thugs stared from Salvatore Maroni's transport ship at the docks.

"What the fuck was that?" Exclaimed one. Their leader, a tall, muscular man in a long leather jacket stared across the bay. He spoke coldly in a Russian accept, smoothing down his short, light brown hair:

"Hurry up. He is here."

"Who?" Asked a curious henchman.

"The Bat. He is coming for us."

Suddenly, a bat- shaped shuriken sliced through the air, a cord whirring after it, tied to its rear blade. The weapon slammed into a door inches from the Russian.

"Impressive," Hissed the leader, "Impressive…"

A dark figure, cape swirling behind it, swung across the docks, over the cold waters of Gotham, and landed on the deck. The criminals stared at him.  
"What are you waiting for!?" Bellowed the Russian, "Bring me his head!"

Thugs ran at The Batman. Six… seven… no, nine of them. The Dark Knight merely stood on the deck, cape draped around his body, frozen, until the last moment. As one of the goons swung a crowbar at the vigilante, Batman somersaulted backwards and kicked the bar from his hands, punching his opponent across the deck. Two more came at his behind and Batman turned with ease, tapping two fingers to either's neck. The villains slumped to the ground and the other six thugs surrounded the Caped Crusader.

"Give up," He hissed, his voice almost bestial in delivery, "Run."

"Get him," Smirked the Russian.

The goons charged and Batman was gone. He dropped from the sky, kicking one of them off the ship, sweeping two thugs up into the recesses of his cape. They slammed to the deck, somehow defeated with ease.

The last three men attempted to run and he hurled three shuriken with perfect precision, slicing all three across both legs. The men fell to the ground, bleeding and gasping. The vigilante only glanced at them as the Russian man glared at him.

"The Batman," Hissed the Russian.

Batman said nothing. He just leapt, his cape flowing out behind him and glided at the thug, kicking his enemy into the door to the hold. The Russian actually _laughed_ as he slammed into the door with force and he stepped towards Batman, purposefully.

"Idiot American! You are no match for me!" Roared the criminal.

"Perhaps not…" Came the growled reply, "But I have many tools at my disposal."

Batman reached into the excesses of his cape. Something dropped to the ground in front of the Russian.

"Oh."

The device detonated. Smoke swarmed around the Russian, blinding him. A gauntleted fist hurtled through the smoke, knocking the Russian to his knees. Batman kicked his opponent across the face and slammed him into the deck, again and again.

When the Russian awoke, The Batman was nowhere to be seen. He and his men were tied together, hanging from a shipping crane. A police helicopter lowered towards them. Suddenly, an explosion shook the docks. Maroni's ship was burning…

Salvatore "Boss" Maroni sat in his office, glaring at his assistant, Sionis. Maroni was very, very angry.

"What did you say!?" He bellowed, breaking his cigar in two against the desk.

"Knyazev failed," Repeated Sionis, sweat running down the back of his neck. He had never seen Maroni so angry… and when Maroni was angry, he killed people. Any people. His own people, "The Batman took them all down."

"THE BATMAN? I want that son of a bitch DEAD! You hear me?" Ranted Maroni, "DEAD!"

"Sir, it's not that simple… our normal guys can't take him down."

"We need some new blood, eh? In fact, I have a plan…" Smiled Maroni, "The Batman and that prick Harvey Dent have been poking around my business too much as of late. A normal idiot will testify, but… tell me, Roman… what is the current status of Cornelius Stirk?"

"The serial killer? Are you nuts!? He's some kind of cannibal!" Exclaimed Sionis in horror.

"Yes, Roman, I am aware. Find him. Tell him we must talk… how will they be able to use a psychotic like Stirk to testify against me?"

"I guess, boss… but if this backfires, that maniac could kill us all!"

"Perhaps. But I don't really care. Even Stirk may need back-up… call in some favours at Arkham. I want Victor Zsasz and Jervis Tetch on the streets by this time tomorrow," Smirked Maroni. He rose and walked to the window, "Batman's gonna die soon… I can feel it in my bones."

Bruce Wayne walked into the Wayne Manor ballroom. People danced around him, but Bruce ignored them, calmly snatching the last glass of champagne from his butler Alfred's tray, under the nose of a guest.

Wayne sipped from the glass thoughtfully and glanced across at a beautiful woman, who seemed somehow familiar, dancing discontentedly with a short, red- headed man. Bruce sidled over to the couple, holding his glass lazily in his right hand. He leant on the drinks bar, draining one glass of champagne and indulgently refilling the glass.

"Excuse me, miss…?" He drawled lazily.

"Ah, Mr. Wayne," The young woman slipped from her dancing partner's grasp and joined Bruce at the bar, accepting the champagne he offered her. She spoke with a slight Oriental accent, "You may call me Talia."

"Just… Talia?"

"Just Talia," The young woman smiled at him, wiping a strand of smooth black hair from her eye.

"I don't believe seeing a 'Talia' on the guest list," Replied Wayne, "I assume that was not from a lack of care on my part?"

"Perhaps not, Mr. Wayne, but perhaps so," Talia smiled coldly.

"Would you care to…?" Began Wayne, but the short man angrily interrupted him:

"Excuse me, Mr. Wayne, but I believe I was dancing with the lady!"

Bruce smiled cockily down at the man.

"And I believe I was talking to the lady, Mr. Stein."

Talia took Bruce by the hand.

"Shall we?"

"Of course."

They danced away from the disgruntled Mr. Stein. Bruce smiled as they moved, twirling Talia to the delicate playing of the piano. He ignored everything around him, focusing merely on her: her perfect body… her beautiful eyes… her sweet scent. They swept across the dance floor but, far too soon for Bruce, the music stopped. He smiled at Talia, releasing her.

"Thank you," He said quietly and looked around him in shock… Talia was, inexplicably, gone!

**CHAPTER TWO: Courthouse Chaos**

Bruce walked down the passage of Wayne Manor, until he stopped by an old grandfather clock. He turned to it and ran his hand down the side. A mechanical voice responded to the action:

"Figure-print scan: positive identification: Bruce Wayne."

The clock slid sideways and revealed a stone stairway leading into darkness. Bruce stepped inside, the clock sliding shut after him. He looked across the expanses of the Bat Cave. Bats flittered across the huge cavern. The billionaire sighed, jugging down the staircase, passing a bulky shape under a tarpaulin. He stopped by a glass display cabinet and stared in at his black body armoured costume: the costume of The Batman.

Moments later, the fully costumed Batman strode across the cave, strapping shuriken, a grappling cable and various other devices onto his utility harness. He reached the hidden shape and cast off the tarpaulin. The Tumbler, his trusty so- called "Batmobile", a high speeds tank from Wayne Enterprise's R&D Division, was parked before him. The Dark Knight seemed to smile as he ran his hand along the car's side and the armoured doors slid open. He slipped into the cockpit, the door sliding shut automatically, and looked down the runway towards seemingly solid rock.

"Alfred. Open Standard Door A1," He grunted into the Tumbler's communications system.

"Certainly, sir," Came Alfred's voice through the speakers. The supposedly solid rock at the end of the runway slid aside to reveal a waterfall. Bruce stepped on the Tumble's accelerator. At speeds nearing one hundred and fifty, the Batmobile rocketed ahead and off the runway, splashing through the waterfall onto a country track. He raced down various lanes and over a massive hill, dropping onto the Gotham Express Way, leading directly to and from the city. The Tumbler raced down the bustling road, swerving to avoid cars.

"Alfred, patch me through to police frequency," Commanded the Dark Knight, steering his vehicle narrowly between a lorry and some kind of old Ford.

"Yes, Master Wayne," Responded the butler in his cockney accent, "Police scanner coming right on, sir."

There was an unhealthy crackling from the speakers and police news came through.

"Requesting back-up at the Courthouse! Some psychos just showed up tryin' to kill Anatoli Knyazev! I repeat, we need back…"

The request was cut short by sounds of gunfire. Batman bit his lip and drove faster, one thought on his mind: Rachel was at the courthouse… if he didn't get there in time, he'd have to suffer through the death of another loved one. That wasn't an option!

The courthouse was in chaos. The main chamber was burning, strewn with bullets. Policemen, jurors and onlookers lay dead everywhere, alongside various gangsters. Victor Zsasz and two masked men with _automatic shotguns _stood in the chamber. As Batman perched on the roof, looking through a skylight, he recognised the weapons with dread. They were the lethal tools the psychotic racist cult leader, Aaron Bunch, alias White Eyes, had equipped his men with. The Dark Knight looked closely at the chaos, among the survivors, who were now huddled in a corner. Thank God. He allowed himself a brief smile: Rachel Dawes was alive, comforting two sobbing women… but there was no sign of Anatoli Knyazev, the Russian that he had beaten at the docks.

Batman took two shuriken from his utility harness, aiming carefully. He'd have to release two perfect shots. He took a deep breath and hurled the shuriken through the skylight! Glass hailed down on the hostage takers, the shuriken burying themselves in either gunman's kneecaps. They collapsed, howling in pain.

Victor Zsasz, in a vest to show off his scarred arms- knife wounds in a tally to record the scores of innocents he'd murdered- looked up at the glaring spectre above him, teeth gritted, fists clenched. The serial killer raised his knives purposefully.

"Zsasz," Growled The Batman.

"Batman," Came the reply, "I'll enjoy killing you."

The Dark Knight Detective dived through the frame where once the skylight was held. He dropped, headfirst, loosing a shuriken. Zsasz stepped aside coolly to avoid the projectile and Batman landed on the palms of his hands, cart-wheeling into a standing position.

"You're going back to Arkham for good this time, you maniac," Spat the vigilante, "No more killing!"

Zsasz ran at Batman, stabbing forwards. Batman ducked so the blade merely nicked his shoulder, then rammed his knee into Zsasz's groin, punching him across the face, the killer's nose breaking on impact!

Zsasz staggered back… and hurled the knife from his left hand. Batman somehow caught it by the hilt and rammed the blade into a wall, trapping it. Then Zsasz ran at him, laughing manically. The Caped Crusader somersaulted to avoid his attack and struck the back of Zsasz's head with his heel, cracking his jaw against the trapped knife's handle.

"Your mine, Victor!"

Batman caught Zsasz's right wrist, slamming his arm into a wall until the psychopath dropped his second knife, then punched him to the floor.

Zsasz lay on the ground, grunting, blood pouring down his face, choking. Batman stood for a moment over his semi-conscious opponent and turned to face the whimpering hostages.

"Everyone, please stay calm. There are more gunmen out at the front," He growled, "You'll have to stay here for a few minutes, but…"

Suddenly, they heard a barrage of forceful, rapid gunfire. Four men with automatic shotguns, lead by Jervis Tetch, a top hat- wearing sociopath with two of the high tech guns strapped to his shoulders, were striding down the corridor. Batman remembered his first fight with Tetch… it had been bad, but this… this was a worse situation.

"O.K, people. Stay calm. On my signal, run for the windows… try to climb out. I'll hold Tetch off as long as I can! Move… NOW!"

The Dark Knight sprinted into the corridor as the hostages hurried for the windows, guided bravely by Rachel. He darted at his opponents and dodged moments before the men released a stream of shells, smashing holes through walls.

Batman's foot slammed into the wall and he propelled himself up and down, kicking Tetch across the corridor. The two thugs fired at the speeding vigilante, blasting holes through the ceiling. Batman dodged and weaved, denying them a clear target, but soon he was tiring. He looked back and saw… at least fifteen hostages were still in the court room… he needed to buy more time!

The vigilante somersaulted and released a handful of smoke pellets, blinding the three gunmen in a swarm of smoke. Batman was like a wraith among his enemies, emerging only to knock them down! Soon, both henchmen lay defeated. As the smoke cleared, Batman was facing Jervis Tetch. Tetch aimed his gun precisely at the hero.

"Don't move," He said slowly.

"Give up, Tetch. Knyazev isn't in there," Batman growled.

"True," Grinned the maniac, "But he isn't the only man that Maroni's paying me to kill!"

Tetch fired rapidly into Batman's chest, tearing through the Kevlar enforced armour, blasting the Dark Knight into the courtroom. Rachel, now alone, stared at the wounded hero.

"Bruce…" She whispered. The Batman lay unconscious in a pool of his own blood. Tetch strode into the room, stirring Zsasz from his unconsciousness as hurried footsteps and shoots came from nearby.

"Vic! The cops're onto us! Come on!" Shouted Tetch. The two men glanced at Rachel, sobbing over Batman's corpse, and fled through an opposite window.

Rachel sobbed, as the fallen vigilante stirred weakly. He coughed up blood, staring through weak eyes at her.

"Rachel… get out of here…" He mumbled. A squad of police ran into the room, guns raised, led by Lieutenant James Gordon. They slowly lowered their firearms.

"Miss Dawes?" Gordon spoke quietly, "Is he alive?"

"Yes," She muttered, "Only just."

"Don't worry, miss. The action's over, and we'll make sure he gets proper medical attention," Said Gordon, "Paramedics are waiting out the front."

Moments later, two paramedics arrived and hurried Batman to an ambulance. The ambulance raced away, seemingly bound for Mercy General Hospital: it was minutes later, as the true Mercy General paramedics arrived, that Gordon realised the hospital was in the opposite direction to that which the ambulance had come and departed from…

**CHAPTER THREE: Talia**

Batman awoke in a dark, dank cell, hanging from the ceiling by manacles. He glanced around weakly… he knew he was alive, for death couldn't be this painful… but how long he would be alive, he didn't know. Slowly, the cell door swung open. Talia stepped inside, wearing an unmasked ninja's costume, with a katana through her belt.

"Talia…" He croaked weakly, "Talia…?"

"Wayne," She spat, and only then did the Dark Knight realise he had been unmasked, "Did you not realise who I am? You noticed nothing familiar about me?"

"I… who are you…?"

"I? I am merely the daughter of _Ra's al Ghul, _you murdering bastard!" She snapped, "Are you so caught up in your women… your champagne… your heroics… that you don't even think of the MURDER you committed!"

"I'm… no… murderer," Bruce was angry now. He had not murdered Ra's al Ghul, that he would swear in front of anyone. Al Ghul had been insane. He had wanted to destroy Gotham. And now someone sought to bring him to justice for an action or, more precisely, a _lack _of action that saved thousands… millions… perhaps _billions _of lives. He wasn't going to stand for it…

"I didn't murder Ra's al Ghul!"

"You blew up the monorail, Wayne! You let him die on it! Is that not murder?"

"He would have killed millions of people," Bruce shut his eyes, straining to pull his hands free of the manacles.

"Liar!"

"I'm no liar."

Talia was angry too. _Good. _Bruce smiled through the pain.

"Mr. Wayne… the only reason you are alive is because I want you to suffer. You will die… painfully," Snarled Talia, "So I suggest you do not aggravate me… I am sure that the more you irritate me, the more you shall suffer before your death."

Bruce decided that Talia was no expert at hostage taking. If she was, she should have realised: men like him can take torture. If you take your time to agonise your enemy, well… you merely give them more time to formulate their escape plan… and pain supplies adrenaline. With enough adrenaline, a strong man like Wayne is virtually unstoppable. For the time being, the pain could _help _him…

Alfred was on the telephone to Commissioner Loeb. Rachel stood by the sitting butler, who was beginning to seem very agitated, a rare thing to be seen from the cucumber cool Englishman.

"That's all very well, Mr. Commissioner!" Snapped Alfred, "But I don't think you comprehend the situation… _The Batman _is missing, as is my employer. Two controversial men who some say are huge helps to the community are missing! Now, these men need to be found or I'm sure it could be you who takes the blame for such a _mess!_"

Rachel smiled confidently for a moment. If anyone could put the fear of God into Loeb, it would be Alfred Pennyworth.

"Good," Said Alfred after a brief pause, "I'll expect you to be in touch within 24 hours, sir."

Alfred hung up the phone. He sighed and rose.

"He'll do what he can," Muttered the butler, "But that may not be enough for Master Bruce."

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Well, Miss Dawes… though I couldn't exactly reveal it to that bloody idiot Loeb, I have my own hidden ways of finding Master Wayne… like a radar with tracers to both the Tumbler and the Batman's cowl… so, what do you say we locate Bruce?"

Rachel smiled nervously:

"I suppose we could, but…"

"Don't worry, Miss Dawes. Everything will be fine. If there is any danger, we can notify the police before moving in…"

"How are we going to get there?"

"Well, between you and me, Miss Rachel, though I may come across the perfect mechanically- deficient aristocrat, the fact of the matter is I got a good look at the controls of Master Bruce's… or should I say _Batman's _specialised jet. What do you say we give it a good go? It hasn't had a decent airing since the White Eye's incident."

The duo walked to a titanium hangar door and Alfred typed a code into the control panel next to it. The door slid open to reveal a black two- man jet, with crescent- shaped, bat- like wings. The cockpit slid open.

"After you, Miss Rachel."

The chains whirled around. Talia slammed the spiked steel links across Batman's back again. He merely grunted each time one of the chains struck him, tearing his body armour apart, leaving deep bloody wounds in his flesh.

"I didn't kill…" He began, but was cut short as Talia slammed a chain across his face, leaving a deep, bleeding injury. Bruce let himself slump, blood pouring down the remnants of his costume. Talia glared at him:

"Are you ready to admit it, yet? Ready to admit that you killed my father!?"

"Never!" Cried the Dark Knight and Talia struck him again. He gasped, flopping forwards, and blacked out.

When he awoke, he had been cut down, though now the bladed chains acted as agonizing bonds. He was knelt by a stone basin of steaming water… or so it looked.

"What you see before you is not steam, Wayne," Came Talia's hissed voice, "It is the result of drying and grinding the blue flower used to make Jonathan Crane's fear gas, then mixing it into heated water. I assure, the result is double torture."

Talia seized Bruce by the hair and plunged his head into the water. Bruce suffered visions… phantoms… sick beasts… bats… his father… he tried to scream but could not under the water level, releasing bubbles from his mouth. As Bruce lost consciousness once again, Talia pulled him free.

"He is breaking," She smiled sadistically, "Soon, we shall end his miserable existence… once, and for all."

**CHAPTER FOUR: Strike Back**

Alfred and Rachel sat in the jet's cockpit. They stared at a radar screen. A red flashing dot was in the centre of the screen.

"We're above him," Alfred stated purposefully, "Let's go and save the master."

They landed the jet stealthily at the back of the location- a factory of some kind.

"I'm just going to take a look," Explained Alfred, "Prepare to call the police if you hear anything that sounds like me dying."

The cockpit slid open and Alfred rose out, dropping to the ground. He quietly opened the factory's back door. Batman's cowl hung from a chain in the centre of the room. A blood splattered note was pinned to it: _"Burn in Hell, with your hero"._

Alfred gasped in horror. He heard a rapid beeping beneath him and turned to run. He managed to knock the door open, he saw Rachel's face… he reached for her.

_Rachel stared from the plane. Alfred was yelling something… she couldn't tell what through the cockpit. She screamed. Alfred was running for the exit… The factory exploded!_

Bruce stood weakly in front of Talia.

"Why… why did you free me?" He groaned.

"Because, Mr. Wayne, your time has come to die. But I do not know if you are guilty any more," Said Talia coldly, "Any man should break and confess to a sin after such treatment. Any impure man. But you never broke. I believe you are perhaps an honourable man, Wayne. Perhaps… but perhaps not. I shall leave it to combat to decide… we shall fight to the death. The winner may go free, untainted by any guilt."

Talia threw a katana and drew one herself.

"Fight for your life and honour, Bruce Wayne!"

Talia ran at Bruce, swiping at his face! Wayne ducked and raised his sword, parrying the blow away. Bruce parried blow after blow, dodging and weaving, flipping and somersaulting to avoid the attacks.

"Talia! I'm no killer! I won't even kill you!" He cried.

"Then I must kill you, Wayne!" She spat and backflipped, slashing continuously at Bruce. He parried again and again, weak. They fought across the candle- lit hall. After parrying a succession of assaults, Bruce flicked the sword from Talia's hand, caught it, and placed both, across each other, against her throat.

"Yield," He grunted, "I won't kill you, Talia."

"I know. Which is why you will always be weak, Wayne," She glared at him, "But I do not believe you are a murderer. Go now… go. You have earned my respect, but I do not want to hear from you ever again. Go!"

"I… I'm sorry." Bruce didn't know why he said it as he stepped back and hurled the katanas across the hall. He strode away, head bowed, for the first time truly feeling the pain of the wounds inflicted on him by Talia…


End file.
